Puddles iced over
in kalakala
gravel parking lot, instead of work we
huddled in the baitlocker,
two hands wrapped around steaming
strong coffee in just-washed cups
(first time in months), bill showed us
his
art, monoprints in battered
frames, tiny gouaches of oregon
republicans, azur
arrived after emergency room wakeup
(housemate bitten breaking up a
dogfight) and trip to the vet, too
cold to forge steel so we went
to voula's
for our earliest and least-earned
lunch ever. Left after that, picked up
photographs and sarah's paintings from
the foundry Gallery 154, visited her
studio briefly, got home,
decided, HELL, IT'S
SNOWING so walked back down the
hill, tossed stones at her wall to get
her attention (use big rocks and aim
for the wall instead of tiny ones
plinking the window, suggested the
parking lot attendant--and he was
right!) and off we walked to Mike's
Chili in Ballard,
warming our hands with a shortcut
through Fred
Meyer where a motorcycle cop
held her helmet as she stood in a
chute paying for food. I asked about
Mike's PLEH DETNAW sign (seen reversed
through the window from where we sat
by Husky-purple pool table in a
highbacked booth for two) but in an
old place like that they'd settle for
no less than a day waitress. We
discovered Cash and Carry (they accept
credit cards) walking home in the
dark, bought a diner-style napkin
dispenser and chocolate morsels we
poured into 4-lb. peanut butter jar
and ate with our fingers, cold clear
night with an
"is-it-full-yet?-hard-to-tell..."
moon, we ran away with the spoon to trapeze studio
wednesday night draw
where even cold and snow couldn't
shake the end-of-winter
feeling.